Chapter 239: Going To See Lilith

The climb back to the central fortress was silent.

The molten rivers far below sent waves of heat through the blackstone walkways, and the faint hum of the realm’s magic sat heavy in the air.

By the time they reached the top tier, Daniel was already waiting in the high courtyard outside the audience hall. He stood with one hand resting on the hilt of his blade, watching them approach. His smile was there, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"I heard about the meeting," Daniel said, his tone light but edged. "You handled the lords well. And the kings... well, I can’t argue with results."

Lucifer caught the subtle change in his gaze when it shifted to Ruka. The smile thinned.

"But," Daniel continued, "making Ruka a king? With the blood of the progenitor running in his veins?" His eyes sharpened. "That’s not a small move, Lucifer. A demon king with that bloodline is more than just powerful—he’s a threat to the throne. My throne."

Lucifer stopped a few steps away from him. The courtyard wind caught his cloak, sending a faint ripple through the air.

"You never change, do you?" Lucifer said, voice low. "Still about the throne." He took one step closer, meeting Daniel’s stare head-on. "Now tell me—what nefarious little plan are you cooking this time?"

Daniel didn’t answer right away.

Lucifer’s voice sharpened. "If Ruka wants the throne, I’ll gladly support him over you. Better that than having a schemer with no control over his own people sitting on it. He deserves his birthright as the son of Lilith. That’s why I gave him Gluttony’s sin."

Daniel’s jaw tightened, but before he could speak, Ruka stepped forward, his new aura subtly bleeding into the air.

"I don’t want the throne," Ruka said plainly. "I’m content with this position. Being a king is enough for me. And besides..." He shrugged slightly. "Mother’s still alive. It’s not time to fight for the throne."

The tension in the air shifted. Daniel’s gaze flicked to Ruka, searching his face for any hint of a lie, but there was none.

Lucifer let out a small smirk. "See? That’s one thing settled. You can stop worrying about your precious seat."

Daniel’s voice dropped a fraction. "You speak as if I sit here out of fear."

"I speak," Lucifer said, "as someone who knows exactly how much you guard it. And I’m telling you—I don’t want it. Never have."

Daniel’s frown lingered for a moment longer before he let it fade, though it didn’t feel like agreement.

Lucifer turned slightly toward Ruka. "Get familiar with your new power. Learn how it moves, how it thinks. You’ll need control over it before it controls you."

Ruka gave a small nod. "I’ll handle it."

Then Lucifer faced Daniel again. "While you play king, I’m going to meet with our mother."

The air shifted instantly. Daniel’s shoulders stiffened, his eyes narrowing just slightly. "Why?"

Lucifer’s gaze didn’t waver. "Personal reasons."

Daniel studied him in silence. The molten glow from the lower tiers reflected faintly in his eyes, like he was measuring the weight of that answer.

Finally, he said, "You’ve avoided her for over a year, Lucifer. And now, suddenly, you want to see her?"

"I said personal," Lucifer repeated. His tone left no room for argument, but it wasn’t sharp—it was final.

Daniel’s hand tightened on his hilt, then relaxed. His gaze flicked once toward Teemah, who remained silent, her expression unreadable.

After a long moment, Daniel gave a slow nod. "You at least deserve that."

Lucifer’s smirk was faint, but it was there. "Glad we agree."

Daniel stepped aside, letting the path to the inner sanctum open. "Don’t take too long. This realm is restless with you here, so it is of our interest if you quickly leave."

Lucifer passed him without a word, the sound of his boots fading into the inner corridors. Ruka stayed behind, his arms folded, eyes following his brother until he disappeared into the shadows.

Daniel exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting toward Ruka. "You may not want the throne now. But power changes people."

Ruka met his gaze evenly. "So does fear."

The two stood in silence, the molten light casting long, jagged shadows across the courtyard, while deep in the fortress, Lucifer walked alone toward the one place only blood could open.

The corridors narrowed as Lucifer descended deeper into the sanctum.

Here, the walls were older than the throne above—obsidian so polished it reflected him in broken fragments as he walked. The air was still, heavy, carrying the faint scent of nightshade and something older, something that never belonged to the mortal world.

The last door wasn’t carved wood or iron—it was a living seal of crimson light, its veins pulsing in slow rhythm like a heartbeat. It knew his blood. The moment he placed his hand against it, the light flared, threads of red crawling up his arm before the barrier dissolved into nothing.

Inside, the chamber was dim, lit only by the slow flicker of black candles set along the walls. At its center, on a bed draped in deep violet silk, lay Lilith Origin—the Demon Progenitor.

Her hair spilled like black water over the pillows, her skin pale as moonlight, faint veins of shadow running under it. Even in stillness, her presence filled the room, pressing against the air. Power coiled around her like a sleeping storm.

Lucifer stood there for a long moment, just looking. The room was silent enough to hear the slow cadence of her breathing.

"Damaris," he said quietly, his voice carrying across the chamber without echo.

His gaze stayed on Lilith.

"Admire her as much as you can," Lucifer said. His voice was calm, but there was something deeper in it, something only blood could understand. "You only have thirty minutes."

[That’s more than enough my son.]

A/N

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